


Of Edain Pride and Elven Prejudice

by Muscarie



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pride and Prejudice References, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muscarie/pseuds/Muscarie
Summary: A love story between a very stern Marchwarden and a very oblivious easterling.





	1. In fair Lothlorien

**Author's Note:**

> And as the sun sets in the west and no one cares, I shall publish this story.
> 
> I own nothing, make no profit.

In fair Lothlorien, it is said that on such a fine day, when the air is scented and cool, and the sun shines freckles of gold onto the stream, elves liked to occupy themselves with the noble arts of song writing and picture painting. 

Such was not the case in the house of Imladion and his wife Gwilwileth, as both spouses were each sprawled over the sofas in their sitting room, Lord Imladion's head tilting back dangerously as sleep attempted to claim him, and lady Gwilwileth, one arm above her head, and a leg resting on the back of her sofa, had long abandoned such a fight.

In the centre of the room, on the floor, three young elleths, two as fair as the other was dark, were laid on their front, their hands having forgotten all of the sewing needles and fine fabrics spread before them. Upon sighting them, and having been told two were related, any newcomer would have guessed that the two golden haired girls were sisters. However, Mîriel, whose eyes held the same azure quality to them than that of her mother's, was in fact related to Auriel, the dark skinned, dark haired elleth. Mellyrn, for that was the name of the third elleth, was but a family friend. She had been named after the golden trees of Lothlorien, and the name suited her greatly, for the gold in her hair was matched by the golden rim encircling the pupils of her blue eyes. Mellyrn was known locally as a great beauty, one to rival the lady Galadriel herself, and such a reputation could have turned her head had she not possessed such sense, and such quickwitted friends.

Mîriel, who, at barely 100 years old, was by Elven standards only just reaching maturity, yawned without grace, stood then left the room to collect some fresh water for herself and the other two. Desprite her being the youngest, Mîriel was the first to have found love, in the person of Beleg, a childhood friend. Anyone who knew them had known for quite so time that these two would wed, but, Gwilwileth being of a traditional background, it was thought impossible for Mîriel to marry before the eldest of the household. Said eldest, Auriel, her dark hair unbraided as usual, rolled onto her back and shut her eyes for a shirt snooze, for that was a trait she had inherited from her Edain blood. Mellyrn was absentmindedly playing with the end of a ribbon, little bits of silver thread escaping it and catching the light.

Such a peaceful afternoon was brutally interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen, followed the furious tapping of bare feet on wood as Mîriel ran back into the room, agitation and upset colouring all her features.

"Lord Haldir is here!" She cried, waking all elves present. "He's here!" She repeated, when all failed to move at urgently as she'd expected.

Lady Gwilwileth was the first to react, sitting up abruptly and already smoothing out cushions and dresses.

"The Marchwarden?"she questioned, breathless. "Is he alone?"

"I do not know, I believe so!" Replied Mîriel.

"By the Valar," cried Gwilwileth, pulling the other two girls to their feet, then tapping her husband's cheek to wake him. "Everyone, sit down, no, stand, no! Sit, but look busy."

"Should I show him in?" Timidly inquired Mellyrn.

"No. Yes." The lady slowed her breathing. "Yes, please, Mellyrn. But not too fast."

Gwilwileth joined her husband on the blue sofa, as Auriel and Mîriel seated themselves in the silver one, each a pair of sewing needle and a little bit of fabric displayed over their knees. All elves were facing the two armchairs opposite, and all watched the door expectantly.

"...through here, please, milord."

Mellyrn returned, followed by the imposing, stern figure of the Marchwarden. All elves stood at his arrival, and he bowed to them. 

"Milady Gwilwileth," the deep voice, so calm and distant, greeted each of them in turn. "Lord Imladion. Milady Mîriel, Milady Auriel."

"Lord Haldir" greeted Gwilwileth, her eased countenance at extraordinary contrast with the agitation she had just displayed moments before.

"Haldir!" Joyfully called Imladion, who had himself trained Lord Haldir before he took his place as Chief Marchwarden.

"Lord Haldir," greeted the two elleths in a quiet voice. 

All were soon seated again, and the ladies present were grateful for Imladion's obvious delight in handling all conversation with their sinister guest. Auriel, grateful for the chance to remain quiet, took this opportunity to study the Marchwarden. It wasn't that he was mean, and disagreeable, but there was something about him, something stern, unflinching, grave, aged, perhaps, or rather, experienced, something which put her ill at ease. The proud face, the haughty look, the strong shoulders, the rigid back, all these elements added to Lord Haldir's overall look of cold and indifference. Maybe even slight condescension. What must he think of her, the adopted niece, the dark skinned easterling whose blood was mixed with that of Men. She still remembered, when, as a young girl, she was brought to the borders of Lorien by her eastern kin, where Haldir himself had recognised her Elven heritage. The Lord Celeborn had identified her as the kin of Leflan, her father, an elf, who had died of a grieving heart when Auriel's mother, a human easterling, had ended their marriage, frightened by his immortality. She had been eighty years old then, a young girl by Elven standards, but she had already seen her mother age and die, and her brothers and cousins and childhood friends had aged and their hair had turned grey and lines had deformed their faces as hers remained unchanged. 

Haldir had asked her name then, first in Sindarin, then in Westron, and eventually in Easterling, but she had pretended not to know it. She was infinitely grateful for the elves's protection, and acceptance, but her name she had kept secret, all these years, as the one last thing she only possessed, the one human, easterling thing she would not give up. Auriel remembered, as she was brought to the house of Imladion, a distant uncle, and the Marchwarden's hand was iron like on her shoulder. Her uncle named her Auriel, daughter of sunlight, for she hailed from a place where the sun never failed to burn the barren deserts. She'd met the Warden's eyes one last time, over her shoulder, as her uncle led her inside, and it would not be for another twenty or thirty years before she had seen him again. She'd interpreted the look in his eyes as disdain, and the impression had stuck with her. They had met a few times, never alone, and the past two centuries she had exchanged with him only perhaps a couple of sentences.

And here he was, now, sitting in her favourite armchair.

Mellyrn was seated next to the Marchwarden, and Auriel lost herself in the contemplation of her friend, her beauty so flamboyant, and probably further accentuated by their friendship. Would these two make a nice couple? She pondered, looking at the two elves seated opposite her. Her friend was much kinder and gentler than Lord Haldir, but then again, perhaps he had a soft side to him, which he would reveal to a wife, a lover... She studied him again, this time more intensely. Was there a loving side to him? What would it look like?

He caught her staring, and she blushed, not having had the time nor the level head to save herself.

"...if you'll excuse me, I'll only be a moment."

To everyone's dismay, Imladion left the room to retrieve some wine, and all the ladies had no choice but to face Lord Haldir on their own. 

The silence stretched and Haldir remained unfaltering, so much so that Gwilwileth was the first to break.

"I better go and assist my oaf of a husband, if you'll excuse me-"

"Mother!" Implored Mîriel.

"Auriel, dear, make some conversation darling, what is Lord Haldir to think of us?" Cried Gwilwileth as she left the room.

Put on the spot, Auriel turned to Lord Haldir and her eyes caught Mellyrn's, in a desperate plea for help.

"Tis Lord Elored's wedding soon, is it not?" Supplied her friend.

"Yes!" Cried the other, perhaps too enthusiastically. "In a fortnight, is it not?"

She had no idea why she'd directed the question at Lord Haldir, for the Marchwarden disappeared on missions for months on end and therefore rarely kept up to date with social events, but he very kindly humoured her nonetheless.

"I believe so."

"What will you be wearing, Mellyrn?" Desperate now, Auriel turned to her friend again.

"The bride is wearing gold, I believe," provided her friend. "So we ought not to pick it."

"Oh, what a shame!" Cried Mîriel. "I was going to wear gold. Beleg has told me before that gold really befits me."

"Well, what of the groom?" Enquired Auriel, mentally kicking herself for the ill chosen topic. There was no way Haldir, a soldier, could find any interest in the subject of dresses and colours.

"The groom wears silver," replied Haldir, surprising everyone.

"Do you know Lord Elored well, milord?" Mellyrn asked the question the other two were too stunned to utter.

"I do. He is a warden, I trained him myself, about a century or so ago. He has been a dear friend of mine ever since."

This was met with further consternation on the ladies' parts. Unable to handle the tension, Auriel's nerves gave way and she let out an inappropriate giggle.

"I'm sorry," she apologised as both Lord Haldir and Mellyrn raised an eyebrow at her in perfect synchronisation. "It is simply... Unexpected."

"For me to count Lord Elored as a dear friend?" Said Haldir, unforgiving.

For you to have friends at all, nearly said Auriel, but she caught herself.

"I do not mean this in... What I mean, is that Lord Elored appears rather..." Fun? "Sociable. And you yourself,milord Haldir, seem..." Boring? "Soldier like."

"Soldier like?" There was derision in his voice, and Auriel felt urged to defend herself.

Ignoring the looks of utter horror the other two elleths were directing at her, Auriel bravely continued: "well, you are, after all, the chief Marchwarden. Lord Elored is a warden too, true, but he seems to engage in conversation and dance and song quite often and quite readily, whereas you seem more... Distant." He frowned. "No, not distant, um... Serious."

There were a few moments of silence, broken by Lord Haldir:

"Is that how you see me, lady Auriel?"

At a loss, Auriel was infinitely grateful for Mîriel's intervention.

"Well, in that case, I believe we ought to wear blue." Declared Mîriel. "If they are going to keep silver and gold to themselves, it is only fair. Oh, Lord Haldir, you ought to listen to Auriel when she speaks of the wedding celebrations in the east, they sound so incredibly exciting!"

As she spoke, Mîriel began tapping at Auriel's arm as fast as the flapping wings of a hummingbird, but not actually letting the other a chance to get involved in the telling:

"Oh it is so exciting, all the ladies wear very bright colours and gold bangles and everyone dances in the desert, under the stars, and the bride and groom wear red! And when it is not red, it is pink, and yellow, but not light shades as we do here, but really bright and vibrant shades. Did I say everyone dances? All one does is eat and dance and drink wine for three days and three nights, isn't that right Auriel?"

"Yes," breathes Auriel, slightly embarrassed at having been found out talking about the east. As understanding and kind as Imladion and Gwilwileth had been, it had been a given that Auriel was not to mention her past life as a desert vagabon.

"Oh Auriel, I cannot remember, did you say the ladies or the men wear black on their eyes?"

"Mîriel!"

"Both, I believe," replied Haldir, surprising everyone once again. "During my missions outside of this realm, I have had the pleasure to travel to the east." He explained, to Auriel only.

"Wouldn't Auriel look lovely in a bright blue dress, with gold on her arms?" Asked Mîriel. "Wouldn't she, Lord Haldir? With her colour of skin and hair? And perhaps some back around her strange eyes?"

Auriel's eyes were a brown green, and she cast them down, enraged at her cousin's lack of shame.

"Indeed." Conceded Haldir, civil as always. "Though, I do not believe it would be possible for lady Auriel not to look lovely."

The declaration, so unbelievably out of character, so unexpected, so odd it almost sounded like a jibe, successfully stunned the whole room into shocked silence, Lord Haldir included.

"Are you mocking me?" Questioned Auriel, all rules of hospitality and politeness forgotten, just as Gwilwileth and Imladion chose to enter the room again, one carrying wine and cups, the other a tray covered with delicacies.

"Here we are!" Chanted the lady, oblivious.

"Forgive me, but I must take my leave. I have abused your hospitality for too long." Lord Haldir stood, and Auriel felt a weight had been relieved from her chest.

"Haldir!" Cried Imladion in protest.

"I do apologise," said Haldir, as he stood. Was he embarrassed?

Auriel heard him leave, pursued by her aunt, and at the last second her resolve fell into place and she chased after him.

"Lord Haldir!"

He was by the door already, leaving their tarlan. Auriel flew past Gwilwileth and chased him a few feet past their home, where he finally stopped and turned around.

"Lord Haldir! Please," she stopped and caught her breath. Lord Haldir stood motionless, avoiding her gaze, but not making a move to leave.

"Forgive me, milord." Said Auriel. "I should not have accused you thus, it was... Most uncalled for. I realise you were not mocking me, but simply being kind. Please accept my deepest apologies."

Haldir opened his mouth, then closed it, then again. It was a rare sight indeed, to see him losing his perfect countenance, and Auriel just stared back.

"It was not kindness," he said, finally, at which Auriel frowned. "Forgive me, it seems I am doomed to being misunderstood by you, today." He smoothed out his tunic, straightened his shoulders. He was a good two heads taller than her. "I- forgive me."

"It is all forgiven," assured Auriel, relieved. "But only if you forgive me too, for my lack of manners."

"Of course." He scowled. "There is nothing to forgive."

"Good day."

"Good day."

Auriel made to leave, but Lord Haldir called her back.

"Milady Auriel. If I may- " he seemed at a loss for words, and eventually appeared to settle for the most straightforward option. "May I hope to claim your attention at Lord Elerod's wedding celebration? For a dance, perhaps?" 

"A dance?" Asked Auriel, baffled.

Faced with her rude incredulity, he carried on: "or at least, a conversation. As I have said earlier, I have travelled east recently, and hope to perhaps offer you some news of your kin."

"That would be most kind, thank you." There was true gratitude in her voice. "I shall see you there. Lord Haldir."

"Milady Auriel." His voice held a softer edge to it as he bowed, then he took his leave, and Auriel returned home, to be greeted by the excited cackle of Gwilwileth.


	2. Of the Importance of Good Timing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)

For the celebration, Auriel and Mîriel were dressed in light blue, and the latter's hair was intricately braided into golden plaits. Auriel's hair, darker, thicker, usually categorically refused to be forced into any sort of shape, and so she wore it down, a few strands gathered at the back of her head with a silver brooch, to free her face. Her dark face. Auriel turned away from her own reflection, upset.

"Arwen Undomiel has dark hair, you know." Commented Mîriel. "And so did Luthien. They are considered the greatest beauties of our people."

"Dark hair, yes. Dark skin, no." Easily countered Auriel, turning before the younger elleth had time to argue further. "Come, let us go. You look ravishing."

The two elleths joined the evening celebration, held in the great clearing under the stars. Elves merrily danced and drank under the moonlight, the bride and groom at the centre of all the attention.

"Mellyrn!"

Auriel rushed to her friend, leaving Mîriel, Gwilwileth and Imladion to Beleg who had just arrived.

"Auriel," smiled her golden friend. "You look lovely."

"So do you."

The two elleths spent a few hours together, until Mellyrn had them drink a fourth glass of ruby red wine and the stars suddenly appeared brighter.

"Have you not promised Lord Haldir a dance, Auriel?" Questioned Mellyrn, a teasing glint to her eyes.

"A conversation," rectified the other.

"Ah," nodded Mellyrn. "And must I be there, or will you manage to speak without aid?"

Auriel slapped her friend's arm, and both of them laughed.

"I will be leaving you to it, when he comes," insisted Mellyrn. "He only ever seems to have eyes and ears for you anyways."

"That's nonsense!"

"Well, we shall see. Here he comes, and here I go."

Before Auriel had time to fully comprehend what was happening, Mellyrn had slipped away, and Haldir was at her side, looking proud and stern as always.

"Milady Auriel."

"Lord Haldir."

"Would you like another glass, my lady?"

Auriel noticed that her glass was empty.

"Yes, please."

He left, and returned shortly with a glass full of wine, before Auriel had the time to think of an excuse to run away.

"Thank you." She immediately sipped some, eager to rid herself of the tension his presence inevitably seemed to bring.

"Would you like a dance?" He enquired, more out of grace than of actual want, she guessed.

"Oh no, thank you. I believe I have had too much wine for that." She laughed, too loudly, and he did smile kindly at her.

"A short stroll, perhaps?"

"Very well."

He held out his arm and she placed her hand on it, allowing him to guide her. As they walked, they passed Gwilwileth, whose eyes threw daggers at Auriel, silently urging her to start conversation.

"So, Lord Haldir, you were telling me you have been to the east?"

Lord Haldir, as it turned out, was wonderful company. He lacked a sense of humour, and he lacked the ability to chit chat, but he was calm, patient, thoughtful, and he was well travelled. He spoke to her of the east, and not once did she detect the slightest degree of judgement in his voice. Haldir even told her of some of her kin, all grown up now and with children of their own. They had all asked about her, he assured Auriel, and were pleased to her she had found her kin. Auriel was vaguely aware that people were looking, no doubt wondering why the noble Marchwarden was troubling himself with the half blood, bastard niece of his old mentor, when so many fair young ladies were about. But, the wine helping, Auriel soon stopped caring. Haldir and her spoke for a few hours, and, little by little, she felt his reserve weaken. She could have sworn the air between them was warming considerably. Eventually, Haldir disappeared momentarily to fetch more wine, and, when he failed to return within a reasonable amount of time, Auriel set off after him.

When she reached the table where all the wine was kept, Auriel understood her companion's disappearance. A group of six or seven elves, most of whom known as being very talkative, were deep in an animated conversation, and Haldir was amongst them.

Smiling, Auriel approached the group, but soon stopped dead in her tracks when she understood what, or rather, whom, the conversation was about. Her face fell.

"...he ought to have named her Morwen, truly, rather than Auriel. Daughter of darkness would be a more suitable name, with her colouring."

"And she did not know her own name, when she arrived! Do the easterlings not name their children? Auriel... What do you think, Marchwarden?"

"Auriel is a name that befits her well," the low voice of her companion had disapproving notes to it. "She hails from a land where the sun never ceases to shine. She herself is warm, full of light. Easterlings do name their children, Lord Tarnan, but I believe the lady Auriel has kept hers a secret."

"Why so?"

"Perhaps she feared the judgement of single minded people." Cold in his voice. Challenge.

In an instant, Auriel bitterly regretted any negative opinion she had ever held against Lord Haldir, for he proved her wrong, once again. There was nothing boring about him, indeed he was full of surprises. Quiet, unassuming surprises.

"Well, regardless of the name, Gwilwileth and Imladion have found themselves with a great challenge. They cannot possibly wed Mîriel until the elder one is wed, but who would marry Auriel? She is an easterling. Raised by Men. Eastern Men. It is practically treason, having her here in Caras Galadhon. She is amiable enough, but no amount of kindness can outshine such a dark complexion-"

Auriel had heard enough. Stepping forward, she called out to the group of elves:

"Well, that is certainly true, but I was hoping that what I lack in beauty I would make up with fantastic timing, lady Ninwen."

The faces all fair and respectable lords and ladies made would have been funny had Auriel not been so hurt by their words. Without waiting for a reaction, she set her cup forcefully onto the table and walked off, tears stinging her eyes.

She did not quite know where she was heading, but the coolness of the evening woods welcomed her and appeased her burning cheeks.

"Auriel!"

Lord Haldir was at her side in an instant, scowling, but for her sake, she could see that now. The carefully guarded expression had been replaced by outrage, on her behalf. In his agitation he had dropped the "Milady", and her name sounded odd on his lips. Neither pleasant nor insulting, just... Foreign.

"You heard all of that, did you not?" He asked, before shaking his head. "Of course you did."

"'Tis nothing I have not heard before," she tried to reassure him, and it may have worked, had her voice not caught on the last word.

"It was all untrue, and uncalled for. No one believes any of this nonsense."

"Well, lady Ninwen and Lord Tarnan certainly seemed to believe it." She laughed without humour. "Please," she raised a hand to his chest, trying to appease him. "Do not trouble yourself over this. I should not have reacted so harshly. It must be the legendary Edain pride I am told about." She tried to laugh again, but the sound died in her throat as Haldir caught her retreating hand in his own, large one.

"I will not see you insulted," he declared, heatedly, as his eyes - so very blue - stared hard into hers. Auriel began to fear for lady Ninwen and Lord Tarnan' safety.

"You may have to look away, then," she murmured, too frightened to hold his gaze, and too frightened to look away.

The air felt heavy between them, and eventually, Auriel retrieved her hand by catching Haldir off guard with an unexpected revelation.

"Oona." She said, a bit too loudly.

He blinked.

"Pardon?"

"Oona." She repeated, more calmly. Her hand found the safety of her lap. "That was my name, when I lived east. Oona of the Elven kind. It means..."

"Dance." He finished for her.

Truly, Lord Haldir was full of wonders. She'd known he could ask someone's name in easterling, but it appeared he knew much more than that.

"Tell no one, please, milord."

"I will not. But please, I wish to be just Haldir, to you."

"Oh! In that case, I shall be Auriel, Haldir..." She laughed, truthfully this time. "This feels very wrong. I shall try, but I cannot promise. "

He smiled as well, the expression looking strange on his normally serious face. Then, a shadow passed over his smooth features and some sort of heat warmed the blue pools of his eyes.

"Auriel, if I may, there is something to wish to discuss with you-"

"Ah! There you are! And Lord Haldir is with you."

Gwilwileth appeared at their side, closely followed by a radiant Mîriel.

"Come, Auriel, we must speak to you."

Conscious of how rude it would seem to leave Lord Haldir in the middle of an empty clearing, Auriel raised an eyebrow at her aunt.

"Is it not something Lord Haldir may hear?"

"Oh, well, I suppose he may. Mîriel and-"

"Beleg has asked permission to court me," excitedly cut in Mîriel. "We are betrothed." She waved her hand at Auriel, expecting her to be able to see the beautiful ring there.

"That is fantastic news!" Smiled Auriel. "Though I cannot say it is much of a surprise."

"No!" Laughed Mîriel, visibly happy beyond all reason. "We shall be married within the year, well, that is, unless of course you-"

She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening at her own indiscretion.

"Unless I...?"

"Oh nothing, Auriel, please forget I mentioned anything."

"No, no, please do tell! Aunt?"

"Well, tradition has it that the eldest child should be wed before the others are allowed to be, as well."

"Oh."

"Here's Mellyrn!" Cried Mîriel, visibly too excited to even stop and ponder over this element of bad news. She started after the family friend, practically running into her.

"But, aunt Gwilwileth, surely this cannot be right. Mîriel shall never be wed, if she is expected to wait for me."

"Oh, I would not be so self depreciating, Auriel dear..."

"You are not brown as I am!" Snapped Auriel. "Forgive me. Forgive me, both of you. I just feel awful, being responsible for the holding hostage of a beloved cousin's happiness."

"A year is a long time, dear."

Lady Gwilwileth made to rejoin the celebrations, and the other two followed. Auriel was too absorbed in her own misfortune and that she was unwittingly causing her dear Mîriel to even notice the change in Lord Haldir's expression.

Had she looked at him, then, had she met his eyes, perhaps she would have read in them the answers to the questions that would plague her for weeks. Perhaps, then, they would have avoided all the misunderstanding and heartache that was to come.


	3. A suitable agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a wonderful misunderstanding moves the plot along.

Over the next few days, the joy Auriel felt for her cousin had bitter notes to it. Each time someone congratulated Mîriel, they invariably asked when the wedding was scheduled for, and, invariably, Mîriel had to smile graciously and explain there was no date set as yet. Many elves guessed the reason, and, if Auriel was present, they threw her a little look and nodded, probably annoyed at their own indiscretion.

"Perhaps I must marry," said Auriel one day, to her aunt. 

"Whom?"

"Someone. Anyone."

"Well, anyone just won't do, Auriel dear..."

It stung even more, that Gwilwileth was being so gracious about the situation. Auriel knew it to be one of her aunt's most cherished wish, to attend her daughter's wedding ceremony.  
It was early morning, and the two of them were arranging flowers and fruit in preparation of the many visits they would receive. Three months had passed, yet people were still eager to visit. Elves did love a wedding. Mîriel, true to herself, was not up yet.

"... But perhaps, there is someone suitable. Someone you may not have considered yet."

Auriel frowned and looked up.

"Who?"

"Oh, I know not... Perhaps, see... Someone reliable, honourable... Someone who would treat you as you deserve to be..."

"Someone willing to marry an easterling..."

"Someone who holds you close to heart already," continued Gwilwileth, as if she had not heard her niece. "Someone like... Haldir!"

Auriel turned to express her surprise, when she saw that Gwilwileth was looking at somebody behind her, at the door. She flipped around, and sure enough, here he was: Lord Haldir himself, dressed unusually, that is, in regular clothing, not his usual Marchwarden uniform. In fact, it appeared that he had dressed rather formally that day. He seemed tense, distant. There was a small, wrapped up package in his hands.

"Milady Gwilwileth, Milady Auriel."

He bowed, his back as rigid as a tree trunk.

"Forgive me, it appears I am interrupting."

"Not at all!" Cried Gwilwileth. She slapped Auriel's arm, and the young elleth snapped out of her stupor long enough to attempt smoothing out her hair and dress.

"We were just getting ready for the day." Explained Gwilwileth, gesturing to the plates covered in fruit, and the flowers by Auriel's hands.

Lord Haldir nodded, but when he failed to respond, and did not make to move away from the doorway, Gwilwileth insisted: 

"Would you like some fruit, Lord Haldir?"

"Oh no, no, thank you."

Auriel frowned. The normally stern, unflinching Marchwarden appeared restless, bothered. Finally he spoke.

"Milady Auriel, please, may I hope to have a word? In private?"

He was looking at her like a man awaiting judgement, or as if he was about to tell her off, and a puzzled Auriel nodded at him. Without waiting, he stepped outside. Auriel's eyes met her aunt's, but instead of the look of shared surprise she intended to find there, she was met with a knowing smile.

Wordlessly, Auriel followed the Marchwarden and found him standing on the edge of their platform, seemingly debating whether to jump or not. It was quiet around them, the dew still fresh from the retreating night, cold sunlight filtering through the trees.

"It is a lovely morning," commented Auriel, unsure.

"It is."

"Are you alright, milord?"

"Yes, yes, thank you. Yourself?"

"I am well."

They remained silent for a little longer, then Haldir finally turned to her. Their eyes met and he looked away, his hands absentmindedly fiddling with the small package.

"Is this a gift for Mîriel?" Enquired Auriel.

"Pardon?"

"This?"

"Oh no, no, it isn't. It is for you, in fact, Milady."

He handed it to her and Auriel gave him a warm smile, hiding her confusion very well.

"Thank you, milord. I mean, Haldir." He did smile back, a little. "I feel very privileged receiving a gift. All gifts recently have been brought to Mîriel only! Gwilwileth, Imladion and myself have been feeling rather left out, I must say." She unwrapped the present. There was a hair piece, in it, a beautiful silver and gold piece, intricate and delicate, with charming little stones of a pastel pink. These were stones from the eastern deserts, she recognised them instantly. Lord Haldir must have brought these stones back from the east, and will have had them set into this traditional Lorien design. What a thoughtful gesture!

"It's... Beautiful." She breathed, astounded. Her fingers lightly touched the precious metal and stones, shivering. She shook her head. "I cannot possibly..."

"Please do. Please accept this... Auriel."

"Thank you," she laughed, nerves getting the better of her. This was by far the most precious and beautiful thing she owned. "Oh, my... Such a wonderful gift, it is as if I was the one to be getting married!"

And that was when it dawned on her, and she understood. Breath caught in her throat and the air felt cold around her. She met his eyes again, and this time he did not look away. The air shifted between them.

"Auriel," his voice, warm, raw, masculine. "If I may, I wish for you to accept this gift as a token of my affection. I have come today in the hopes of asking for your hand in marriage. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

She did not respond, instead searching his face for any kind of indication that she had just misheard the whole declaration. Her silence must have felt like much anticipated rejection, for Lord Haldir immediately started speaking, more assuredly this time.

"I know this may come as a surprise, for I am not one to display my true emotions readily, but I can assure you of the verity of my feelings. I have been-"

"You do not have to do this." It sounded abrupt and cold even to her own ears. "You are most kind, Lord Haldir, and I know I could never hope for a better offer. In fact, I am unbelievably grateful that someone like yourself would even consider locking themselves with someone such as I. Imladion and Gwilwileth are truly blessed, with a friend as loyal and truthful as you."

"Auriel, you misunderstand me,I-"

"You are offering me to marry you, so that Gwilwileth and Imladion will be free to marry their daughter." She said simply. "And although I am grateful-"

She stopped. Was she really about to refuse him? This was an amazing chance to enter a most advantageous marriage, and to guarantee her cousin's happiness. But what of Haldir? Was there not an elleth out there, meant for him? Would he not be very sorry, should he meet this elleth, and be locked in a loveless marriage with the easterling bastard?

And what of her? Was there no love in this world, for her?

"Auriel," Haldir took hold of her hand. "Please, you misunderstand me."

Mîriel's lovely face flashed before her eyes, and Auriel steeled herself.

"You are right." The change in reaction was dizzying, and Lord Haldir faltered for a second, looking at her in surprise. "Forgive me. Yes, I will marry you. But you must promise me something."

She stared into his eyes, her voice rising in ill placed anger.

"I love my dear cousin, and will not be the instrument of her unhappiness. I admire your loyalty to your friends, and I am grateful for the decency with which you have always treated me, ever since I was brought to the borders of this land as a girl. But I will not have your pity, and I do not wish to be the one to emprison you, or either of us, in a loveless union. This marriage," she lowered her voice, suddenly frightened. "This marriage shall not be consumed." She blushed. What must he think of her, mentioning the consumption of their marriage before it was even fully agreed? "This way, should you- should either of us find love, we will remain free to go our separate ways. This can even end as soon as Mîriel is wedded. What do you say?"

He grew very still, and his hand tightened around hers.

"Milord?" When this failed to rouse him, Auriel pushed: "Haldir?"

He seemed to find himself again, swallowed heavily.

"Haldir, do you agree? It is the best for us both."

"As you wish." He said, finally, though it sounded pained. Was he upset at having been found out? Did he think her ungrateful?

"Thank you," the relief in her voice was genuine, as she was glad to have guaranteed Mîriel's happiness, without having destroyed Haldir's forever. "It shan't be long." She tried to reassure him. "You shall be free in no time. And in the meantime, I shall be the best fiancée, and the best wife, to you. You shall not be ashamed of me." She grasped his hand tighter, for his silence felt like refusal to her. "When should we marry? Soon? We cannot wait a year, it would be too much for Mîriel and Beleg."

"Three months?" Asked Haldir, but there was no joy, no triumph in his voice. 

"Three months it is." Replied Auriel. She gave him a smile, which he returned with a twitch of the lips. Her eyes returned to the lovely hair clasp in her free hand.

"Let me," asked, or rather, commanded, Haldir. She let him take the piece from her hand, and obediently turned around to present him with her black hair.  
His hands ran through her dark tresses and gathered half of it away from her face and at the back of her head, as she liked to wear it, and he fastened the lovely clasp to it. Then, his hands went to her shoulders and rested there, hot, his thumbs rubbing lightly against the fabric of her dress. Auriel tried not to get overwhelmed by the strange feelings his touch elicited. Finally, he released her, took a step back and bowed.

"Should we announce our engagement to your family, Milady?"

"There is no need for such formality. I'll tell Gwilwileth and Mîriel. I believe Imladion is by the armoury, visiting the wardens. You may find him there. And Haldir, you must call me Auriel."

"As you wish," he repeated, not responding to the good humour in her voice. "Auriel."

He grabbed her hand and kissed it, a feather like contact, before walking away stiffly.

Auriel rushed back inside the talan, to find Gwilwileth standing suspiciously close to the door.

"You knew, did you not?" Accused Auriel.

"We both did. Lord Haldir came by two weeks ago as you were out, to ask for your hand in marriage."

"Well, I gave it to him."

Gwilwileth's cries of joy were reward enough, and helped soothe the bitterness of having to use Lord Haldir, a man who had always been so kind to her.

Three months, then another ten or so.

Yes, she thought, it should all be over in no time. Haldir would be free.


	4. Engagement Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To aynyone still reading: sorry it took so long for me to update! Story is actually already completed so is definitely not going to be abandoned. 
> 
> Thank you for the lovely comments!
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

It appeared to Auriel that her dear Mîriel truly believed in the veracity of her feelings for the Marchwarden. The younger elleth squealed with delight upon hearing the news of the engagement, and immediately declared that Auriel and herself would go wedding dress hunting this very afternoon. Imladion, when he returned home, hugged his niece, and whispered 'well done, girl' into her hair. He then merrily told them of Haldir's obvious pride and delight as he announced his engagement to the wardens. Auriel was surprised to hear that this declaration had been received with joy by the marchwardens, rather than with pity for their chief.

"He's always been very partial to you, it was no secret," said Imladion.

Auriel nearly told them the truth about the nature of the engagement, then, but stopped herself. There was no need to make their happiness as bitter as hers had been the last few weeks.

The family held an engagement ceremony on the next week, and Gwilwileth was at the centre of it all, loving the congratulatory words from every visitor. Mîriel stayed by her fiancé's side, radiant, holding on tightly to his hand. It would have seemed a rather imbalanced relationship were it not for Beleg's arm being tightly wrapped around his lady's side. It was hard to tell which was happiest, and Auriel felt a surge of pure joy on her cousin's behalf, as well as, shamefully, a hint of jealousy.

Her own fiancé kept his distance, even when he stood by her side. She did not blame him, for they both knew there was no love between them, but it did hurt to suddenly realise that she would miss out on the whole true love experience. A marriage of convenience was not what she had expected from life. 

Regardless, she chastisised herself, her husband to be was handsome, polite, and respected by all. She still could not quite fathom how loyal he was to her uncle, and her family. She would free him soon, she told herself. 

"Thank you,"she smiled, endlessly, at every person who came to her. 

She knew they were all rather impressed, and probably genuinely happy for her, the bastard girl, the easterling who had caught the eye of the Marchwarden. They complimented her hair piece, blessed their union. Their congratulations felt true, meaningful. And Auriel thanked them, for she was rather impressed herself, although the hidden truth was enough to keep her grounded.

Lord Haldir surprised her once again, by his civility and his ability to act. His happiness and pride seemed genuine, and anyone seeing him would easily be fooled to believe he was marrying a dearly cherished elleth whom he had admired for long. Auriel was not quite sure what to make of that, for if there was one thing she had never accused the sinister Marchwarden of, it was falsity.

Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around her waist and she was pressed into a warm, hard body. The silky, light strands of Haldir's hair brushed against her cheek and she threw him a surprised look. She followed his challenging and cold stare to Lord Tarnan and lady Ninwen, who were making their way over.

"Auriel!" Cried the lady. "Haldir! Many congratulations."

Haldir bowed politely, but Auriel could feel the tension in him

"Auriel dear, well done, what a catch!" Lady Ninwen's voice held frost to it, and a not so subtle hint of accusation. "One might wonder what sort of eastern spell you could have cast upon our stern Marchwarden, to make him consider a wife at last. How old are you, Haldir? You will have been Marchwarden for some time already when Auriel was brought here as a girl..."

"It is I who is most fortunate," replied Haldir, ignoring the inopportune question. "To have the lady Auriel consider me."

Truly, what an act! Auriel was astounded. His voice sounded so truthful!

"By the Valar!" Murmured Lord Tarnan. "Our Marchwarden is truly bewitched! Well done, girl, well done indeed." He leaned in to whisper to Auriel only: "and it is a most fortunate coincidence for Gwilwileth to have both girls engaged at once."

Later in the evening, Lord Tarnan and Lady Ninwen's words kept swirling in Auriel's head. Was this what everyone thought of her? Did they think she was some sort of sorceress, who had ensnared their righteous Marchwarden, corrupted his mind and heart? Did everyone see right through their scheme?  
Haldir had released her as soon as the two inquisitive elves had taken their leave, and she was grateful for the reprieve. She'd taken some empty dishes away, seeking much needed solitude. The ill fated thoughts, however, clouded her mind, and Auriel, as she was chopping a piece of fruit, managed to cut through her own finger. She gasped and rushed to wash the wound. It bled an impressive amount and she cursed herself for her own clumsiness. 

"What's happened?" Mellyrn appeared at the door behind her, rushed to her friend's side. "Eru, Auriel, what have you done?"

"It is nothing, I'm such a clumsy goose."

"It is not nothing, it is bleeding a lot!"

"I've only cut a little bit of the tip, I think."

"Oh my, it looks rather nasty to me... Let me get Lord Haldir."

"What? Why? No!"

But Mellyrn had already disappeared, and sure enough, the next person to witness Auriel's silliness was Haldir himself. He walked quickly over to her and took hold of her hand.

"I will not touch the cut," he reassured her, sensing her hesitation.

Haldir inspected it as one would a severe blade wound, before pulling a cloth out of a pocket.

"Here," he said, gently wrapping the cloth around her finger. "This will help stop the bleeding. You did well rinsing the cut straight away."

"It is fine, truly, I cannot believe myself. I just hope I have not tainted the fruit with my blood."

"And why would your blood taint anything, I wonder."

His tone was similar to that of Imladion when he told either her or Mîriel off, and Auriel felt her temper rise.

"Well, no one would want to taste my blood on a slice of mellyrn fruit, would they?"

"If they are unhappy they are most welcome to cut their own food," snapped Haldir, successfully reducing Auriel to silence. "Forgive me," he added, more softly.  
Still too stunned to respond, Auriel watched him finish his makeshift bandage.

"Thank you," she murmured, and he nodded, yet he did not release her hand immediately. "I take it you do not particularly enjoy this sort of gathering." She babbled on.

"Pardon?" He frowned at her.

"I mean, the guests, the small talk..."

"I cannot say that I do, no," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, as his eyes returned to her hand. "I do not enjoy being the centre of attention, it is true."

"Neither do I." 

They kept in a comfortable silence for a moment. She watched him, in the semi darkness, she watched his serious face, his broad shoulders.

"Thank you," she said again, though she knew not herself what exactly it was she was thanking him for.

"Anything." He said, which was odd, and did not quite fit as a reply. He must have realised it himself, for he quickly moved on: "I am to be leaving for the borders the day after tomorrow." He moved away from her, and Auriel realised how close they had been standing. "I am called on a mission."

"Oh." She was not sure how this made her feel. "Will you be gone long?"

"Not too long. A couple of days, at most."

"Will you..." Be safe? She did not finish her question, preferring a less personal formulation. "What sort of mission is it? Am I allowed to know?"

"I believe if I told you, it would put you in great danger." He said, and she raised an eyebrow at him. By Eru... Was that a joke? His cheeks coloured slightly. "It is only a patrol." He said. "Merchants are coming to our borders, and the Lord Celeborn has requested we purchase some wine from them. That is all."

"A secret purchase mission to fill the Lord and Lady's secret stash," she said, "I shall hold my tongue forever."

He smiled what was probably the most genuine smile she had seen on him in all the years she had known him. It looked as if he was about to say something, but he decided against it and bowed to her before taking his leave.

Oh well, thought Auriel.

At least she'd amused him, and she'd discovered a sense of humour, buried deep under all that cold and condescension.


	5. The Mercheants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ^^
> 
> Is Haldir getting jel-jel??

The next day, Auriel learnt from Beleg that said merchants were from the east. The news stirred a certain longing in her, but it was not until Mîriel said something that Auriel started feeding the idea that she could, in fact, go and meet them.

"You could go, Auriel." Said Mîriel. "They may have fabrics you could use for your wedding dress."

And in truth, they may. Auriel had not yet given serious thought into her dress, but only a couple of months remained and she really ought to have it tailored soon. She remembered, as a girl, attending wedding celebrations in the desert and admiring the bright dresses, the golden jewels and all the festive attires. She could not deny that she had always pictured herself in an eastern wedding dress. It was unthinkable, though, as bright and deep colours were simply not considered in Lothlorien, and eastern dresses revealed more skin than was thought appropriate amongst the noble Lorien elves. But perhaps if she chose a soft colour, gold and pale pink, and tailored it herself, so it was of an adapted eastern design... She still wished to wear black and gold around her eyes, though, and the crayon used for that was not to be found in fair Lothlorien woods.

Mîriel quickly decided that she wished to go as well, and when the girls went to request permission from lady Gwilwileth and Lord Imladion, they were met with a half blessing.

"Auriel may go," said Imladion at last. "But Mîriel, you should remain here. It would not be proper for you to travel unchaperoned with your intended. People would talk."

"Unchaperoned? But all the wardens will be there! And Auriel will be there! Can I not be chaperoned by her and Lord Haldir?" Her eyes narrowed. "Does Auriel not need a chaperone herself?"

"Lord Haldir is well known and respected, everyone knows he would never, shall we say, finalise a marriage before it was presented before the Lord and Lady."

"You do not know that for certain! Who is to say him and Auriel would not be carried away by their passion?"

Auriel let out a snort, which thankfully went unnoticed by her cousin.

"Do you place more trust in Auriel than in me?"

"Of course not, Mîriel, dear," assured Gwilwileth. "But Lord Haldir, we have known for centuries."

"So it is my Beleg you do not trust!" The gasp Mîriel let out was so loud one could have believed she'd just witnessed a murder. "You do not trust my intended!"

Auriel left the room as the argument rose in animosity, and went to pack a few things to take with her. Although she would never admit so to Mîriel, she understood Gwilwileth and Imladion's reserve. She herself had no doubt that Haldir, even if he were madly in love with her, and she with him, would never stray so far from his sense of duty. Beleg, however, and Mîriel, were younger, more impulsive, and much more romantic. 

The next morning, at dawn, she hugged her family, promised Mîriel a dark crayon and a few golden bangles, and ran to the armoury. She found the Marchwardens ready to leave, Haldir already on his horse.

"Haldir!" She cried, running to them.

He threw her a perplexed look.

"Milady Auriel? Has anything happened?"

"All is well," she said, catching her breath. "I wish to come with you."

This was met with as much consternation as she was expecting.

"But Milady-"

"The merchants are eastern, are they not?" Interrupted Auriel. "I thought I could purchase some fabric. You know, for my wedding dress." She'd whispered the last bit, her cheeks colouring, and the rest of the elves chuckled at them in good humour. "My uncle and aunt have agreed to it."

"Auriel, it is not-"

"Please, Haldir."

It was the right thing to say, she saw, as his resolve faltered and a few elves exchanged knowing looks. The Marchwarden would be considerate, she thought, he would not refuse his betrothed in public.

"Very well." He said.

"You may ride with me, lady Auriel," offered a warden.

"She shall ride with me, of course," cut in Haldir, annoyed. He extended his hand at her and Auriel took it, letting him help her up onto the back of his horse. She settled her bag between them, holding on to his sides. Their legs touched. Suddenly, Auriel started to regret her stubbornness.

"Is Mîriel not with you?" Asked Beleg, his eyes searching the area Auriel had appeared from.

"No. My aunt and uncle have forbidden it." Admitted Auriel, blushing.

The wardens whistled and laughed merrily.

"Enough," snapped Haldir. "We must set off now."

It was odd, leaving Caras Galadhon. She had not left the hidden city since her arrival, many years before. And how ironic that Haldir must be the one to accompany her both times.

They rode through the forest, and eventually there were no more mellyrn trees. The forest was lush, though, and they passed a few trees and landmarks that Auriel recognised.

"I remember this," she told Haldir, pointing at a crooked oak.

"You do? You were but a young girl when I walked you through these woods."

"I remember it all."

"You seemed frightened."

"I was. This was the first forest I had ever seen. It was dark and big and intimidating."

"I hope the woods are not so frightening to you, now," he said after a short pause. "I hope you could consider them home."

She said nothing, for there was a strange tone to his voice and she was unsure what to make of it.

They reached the edge of the woods, finally, many hours later, and Auriel saw the great plains that lay outside the realm of Lothlorien. Once again, she was overwhelmed with memories, memories of travelling across these plains, the campfires at night and the easterling language she missed so.

Then she saw them.

The caravans.

The caravans, the oliphant, the fast, sand coloured horses. The Men. Her kin.

Haldir helped her down the horse, his hands lingering on her body, but she had eyes only for the dark faces, the bright cloths, the drums she saw already settled by the fire, ready for an evening of dance and music, once trade was done.

"Oh," she whispered.

An ache filled her heart, so vivid she had to catch the Marchwarden's arm so as not to lose her footing. She walked to the gathering of eastern merchants. Men, women, children.

The easterlings saw them, then, and stood to greet them. Haldir was first to respond, already discussing Lord Celeborn's request. Auriel was amazed to hear him speak Westron.

"Are you eastern?" Asked a man, to her, in the Harad language. The elves turned to watch the exchange.

"Yes." Replied Auriel, and her mother tongue felt foreign on her lips. "I was born in the desert of the Haradrim, though I am of a nomad tribe."

"Are you Elven?" Asked the man, leaning in to look at her pointed ears.

To the elves, this would probably look improper, but to Auriel, to Oona, it felt familiar, comforting. The easterlings were not cold and distant as the elves.

"Partly so. My father was an elf of this clan," she gestured to the elves around them. "My mother was of the Haradrim, but she joined the Mûrak tribe."

"I am also of the Mûrak clan," said the man, a handsome smile lighting his dark face. "Well met, sister."

She heard someone gasp as she embraced the man. This was the way of the nomadic tribes upon meeting each other: a bone crushing hug.

"Are you the one they call Oona of the Elven kind?" Asked a woman, stepping forward.

"It is I." 

Auriel was surprised to have been remembered. All the Men she would have known whilst she lived east had certainly died by then, and a few generations had passed.

"Then you are my kin," said the woman. "I am your distant cousin, Umrao of the Mûrak. Let me look at you." The woman put her hands around Auriel's face. "By the stars, you are as beautiful as they say!" Oona embraced the woman in a tight hug, feeling tears gather under her lashes, for the woman greatly reminded her of her own mother, before she'd aged, before she'd greyed and faded right in front of her very eyes.

"Is she the elf maid?" Asked a child. 

"Yes," said Umrao. "This is our kin, your great great grandfather Amad's cousin."

Oona fell to her knees and embraced the child, laughing, so happy she thought her heart could burst. This child looked exactly like her cousin Amad had done, so many years ago.

Forgetting all of her escort, Auriel spent the rest of the day inspecting all the merchandise, and conversing in Harad with every single Man present. Thankfully, Haldir was busy settling trade with the chief of the convoy, and Auriel was free to search for fabrics and jewellery without fearing being seen by her intended. She purchased some gold bangles for Mîriel, and a dark crayon for herself, but was offered a fabric the colour of vivid gold by her kin. When she revealed to them that she was to be married, and pointed out her intended to them, the easterlings showered her with gifts, gold and sweets, wine and spices, fine fabrics and a very generous price for anything she found and deemed fit to gift her husband. It was an eastern tradition, for the bride to gift a warrior husband with a fine sword, engraved with her vows to him. Auriel did not have the courage to reveal the true reason behind their engagement, so she smiled, and selected a marvellous curved sword, made of the finest metal of the Harad deserts. Small sand stones, similar to those encrusted in her hair piece, ornated the pommel. 

One woman started engraving her vows; unsure, Auriel had told her what she'd heard at previous eastern weddings, only adding an element of Lorien tradition to it: I gift you my heart, for under the stars and the trees there shall be no other I shall love more dearly.  
As the lady started engraving the words, the other women teased Auriel on her betrothed. 

"He is handsome," they said, "and strong, and so very much in love. His eyes keep searching for you, it is as if he fears we might take you away!"

Later, she found Beleg and a warden friend of his, who'd quite happily been making an impressive amount of purchases themselves.

"How came you received such treasures?" Asked the other warden, his pale hair and strong nose somewhat familiar. It was the warden who had offered for her to ride with him, and Haldir's brother Rúmil, Auriel suddenly realised. "The easterlings keep telling me I am very handsome too, yet they still expect me to pay."

Auriel laughed, pleasantly surprised to see that at least one of her brothers in law to be was of a most joyful disposition. The other one, Orophin, stood sternly by Haldir's side and kept a watchful eye on the tradesmen.

"I see some drums and other instruments being prepared," continued Rúmil, "are we to expect a musical display?"

"I believe so," replied Auriel. "It is tradition to hold a feast and a dance after good trading."

"And good trading it is," said Rúmil. "I believe they have earned quite a few feasts just with my own acquisitions."

Auriel laughed again, and Haldir, standing a few feet away, turned to look at her. His expression grew somewhat disapproving. Was the intended of the great Marchwarden expected to be silent?

"Do you believe we will remain for the evening?" Asked Auriel.

"I believe that if you wish it, it shall happen," replied Beleg.

"I am not entirely certain that our Marchwarden is as keen as I am," said Auriel, nodding towards Haldir.

"Haldir?" Cried Rúmil, "he may not sing, and he may not enjoy music, but I cannot imagine that he'll refuse the chance to see you dance, lady Auriel." 

"Rúmil!" Scolded Beleg, and Haldir turned once again to scowl at them.

Auriel shook her head and blushed. Did no one really understand that this was all a farce?

"Although, for my own safety, perhaps I should head back," joked Rúmil. "If not, I fear I may be persuaded into purchasing the oliphant."

Auriel's laugh rang around the camp, but it quickly died in her throat when her eyes met Haldir's glare.

Really, she thought, what was the issue?


End file.
